CHAPTER XIII: ROME, 1916-1917

Towards the end of 1916 I paid a second visit to the Italian
front to convey to the King of Italy the Grand Cross of the Bath
as our highest military distinction. His Majesty was as always
very modest about his own merits, and protested that he had done
nothing to deserve it. After spending a night at his head-quarters
I returned to Udine, and from there drove with my son through
several villages bearing the marks of bombardment to Aquileia,
one of the few historic sites in Italy which I had never visited.
I found Cadorna cheerful, but as reluctant as ever to believe
that anything was to be gained by increasing the forces at Salonika.

The situation at the close of the autumn was not really much
more encouraging than it had been a year earlier. A bright spot
in the military record had been the capture of Monastir, in which
the reconstituted Serbian army had played a conspicuous part.
This was the more satisfactory as the Allied commanders at Salonika
had been rather sceptical as to whether troops once so hopelessly
demoralized could ever again be made into a fighting force. Our
unremitting pressure on the Somme had also given satisfactory
results, but after the successful battle on the Ancre incessant
rains had brought operations to a standstill, so that we seemed
no nearer to a conclusion. On the Italian front Cadorna had had
a disappointment. he had moved all his heavy artillery to the
Trentino for an attack on the Asiago plateau, when a metre and
a half of snow fell prematurely and rendered all movement impossible.
And so the guns were sent back again to resume the offensive on
the Carso which had already cost such heavy sacrifices of life.
The Italians had always been short of heavy artillery. The situation
in Roumania was depressing, and there we were now chiefly concerned
to secure the destruction of the accumulated stocks of corn and
oil before they could fall into enemy hands. Sonnino's intuitions
regarding Near Eastern questions had almost always been sound.
When we made large purchases of wheat in Roumania he urged us
to have the grain transported with as little delay as possible
into Russian territory, even at the risk of deterioration through
inadequate storage, for no one, he maintained, could ever foresee
what might happen in a Balkan country. The recommendation was
indeed considered, but the arguments urged against it at the time
were held to be more valid. Finally, we were much preoccupied
with the situation in Greece, where, after the secession of Venizelos
and Admiral Condouriotis to Salonika, relations with the Allies
were gravely strained.

The story of the Greek imbroglio would fill a volume by itself.
But the most patient historian would find it a baffling task to
disentangle the perplexity of issues and to estimate the force
and effects of the number of cross-currents prevailing. I have
always believed that the feeling of a majority of the Greek people
was favourable to the Allies, and have never forgotten the volunteers
both in Athens and Crete who offered their services during the
South African War. A certain number were ready to risk all that
their country had recently acquired in a great adventure, and
actively to co-operate with us in a field where their assistance
at a certain moment would have been of value. The dynasty, on
the other hand, apart from any question of personal sympathies
or kinship, seems to have entertained no doubt as to the eventual
success of the Central Empires, and therefore insisted on a neutrality
which was not displeasing to a considerable part of the nation.
[Signor Giolitti in his memoirs (pp. 358 and 368 of the English
edition) states that the Italian Government had information already
in 1913 that Germany was working to detach Greece from the Entente,
and that Constantine favoured such a policy.] A dispassionate
review of the position in the earlier phases of the war may warrant
the conclusion that it was legitimate for the ruler to regard
neutrality as in the best interests of a weak country. But neutrality
involved the disregard of pledges to Serbia which were morally
binding, even though they had been given in anticipation of quite
different circumstances. What was not legitimate was the rendering
of unneutral service to the enemy and the assumption of extraconstitutional
powers. On the other hand, the adoption of Corfu as a naval base
by the Allies and the occupation of Salonika and the surrounding
country was only welcome to a section of the nation, and was really
imposed on the dynasty. When the anti-dynastic elements among
the Greek people rallied round the international contingents at
Salonika they really entered the war as belligerents. The rest
of the nation, loyal to a king who had been anything but constitutional,
still professed a neutrality so far from benevolent as to require
constant vigilance and occasional coercion. A more anomalous position
could hardly be conceived.

I thought at the time, and looking back feel more than ever
convinced, that the Greek situation was mismanaged. This was not
due to any lack of perception on the part of our representative
at Athens, then Sir Francis Elliot, who, so far as I could judge,
saw clearly and gave sound advice. But initiative had for some
time passed out of our hands.

It was inevitable that, with a French Commander-in-Chief at
Salonika, who was moreover notoriously a politician, and with
the naval command in the Mediterranean in the hands of a French
Admiral, Balkan policy should have been largely directed by France.
She not only undertook the reconstruction of the Serbian Army,
but made a special point of having all the Serbian refugees transferred
to French territory. The fugitive King of Montenegro was also
established in France with a liberal Civil list. Even so comparatively
unimportant a person as Essad Pasha, the Bey of Tirana, who began
his exile in Italy, where I saw him occasionally, was drawn into
the French orbit and, after a visit to Paris, reappeared to the
annoyance of the Italians with a small band of Albanians at Salonika
under the wing of General Sarrail. The latter was now pressing
for authority to deal drastically with the Greek question, and
to occupy Thessaly.

Sonnino, whose information was generally good, took a line
which appeared to me sound. He urged that it was inopportune to
provoke the dynasty and the dynastic party too far. When the King
showed a disposition to yield, that moment should not be selected
to deliver another blow and put forward a new demand to which
in his actual position he could not consent. He did not, however,
press his views in international discussions when he found there
was little disposition to accept them. On the other hand, the
Italian representative in Athens adopted a somewhat independent
attitude which gave the impression of divided counsels. Unfortunately
the policy of the Allies was precisely the opposite of that advocated
by Sonnino. A great deal had already been conceded: the control,
for instance, of posts and railways, the removal of a number of
troops to the Morea, and a measure, which though necessary was
certainly arbitrary, the withdrawal of enemy Legations. But there
followed a demand for the surrender of the artillery, which their
opponents assumed would be handed over to the Venizelists. The
French Admiral endeavoured to enforce this demand by a demonstration
in Athens which, in view of the inflammatory conditions prevailing,
was undertaken with inadequate means, and had most unfortunate
consequences, for which reparations had to be exacted.

It was certainly very difficult for the Allies to appreciate
correctly the real feeling existing in the country and the relative
strength of the two main currents. We had of course a military
intelligence service on the spot which, from an that I learned
from private sources, was regarded by the Greeks as crazily amateur.
In such matters the Greek himself is a master of craft, by whom
the most cautious and experienced of secret agents might readily
be misled. Obviously our intelligent authors and archaeologists
converted into temporary officers were mere playthings in his
hands. Briand, when in Rome, quoted several instances of circumstantial
information received in Greece and accepted as accurate by the
naval and military authorities, for which on further examination
there was found to be not the slightest foundation.

At the close of the year it looked almost as though, while
a section of the Greek people were actually co-operating with
the Allies, we were drifting towards a state of war with dynastic
Greece. Public feeling at home seemed strongly roused. The correspondent
in Greece of one of our leading daily papers said to the Greek
Minister in Rome, "We took all our instructions from Sarrail
and not from Elliot," and he added that he had been working
up opinion in England since February for a coup d'état.
It was a moment when politicians at home were likely to be particularly
susceptible to public pressure, for a new Government had only
just taken office. Changes of Government are not matters for comment
in the reminiscences of an Ambassador who was the loyal servant
of all Ministries. The only reflection which I find recorded in
my diary was that as the Press had taken so prominent a part in
calling the new administration into being it might be anticipated
that those who controlled that Press would claim a more determining
influence in the future direction of affairs.

At the end of 1916 peace proposals were in the air. Germany
we knew endeavoured to influence the King of Spain, the Pope,
and the President of the United States to take some initiative.
The Pontiff was prudently hesitant about putting forward any direct
suggestion of mediation, which would not have been well received.
Believing, however, that some agreement to disarm offered the
only chance of peace, he directed his efforts towards making the
idea of disarmament acceptable to Germany. Then in December Germany
formulated certain proposals. As the United States and Switzerland
divided the representation of Allied interests in enemy countries,
these proposals had to be communicated through their respective
Missions. The communication of the German Note seems to have been
made by the Swiss Missions concerned some days before the American
Missions took action. On the 19th of December the American Ambassador
in Rome informed the Italian Government that President Wilson
had intended to approach the belligerent Powers with an important
note, but that he had refrained from doing so lest such a step
should be interpreted as being taken in collusion with the German
initiative. Nevertheless, four days later the President's surprising
message was published to the world. Postponement of publication
for only a few days hardly justified the announcement made by
the American Ambassador, and the delay in transmitting the German
proposals suggested rather the desire to make sure that the President's
message might appear before any answer could have been returned
to Germany.

It was perhaps only a coincidence that precisely at this time
M. Caillaux should have been paying the visit to Italy which gave
occasion for a judicial enquiry into his proceedings there, and
a condemnation which was of public notoriety. His presence in
Italy, travelling with a passport issued in another name, was
a source of much preoccupation to my French colleague. The individuals
with whom he associated, among whom was the ex-deputy Cavallini,
[See page 261.] himself afterwards to be placed on trial
for treasonable communications, were mostly undesirables from
our point of view as belligerents. He did not, as was generally
believed, have an interview with the Cardinal Secretary of State.
But the substance of a long conversation with a Monsignor connected
with the Vatican was communicated to me. It was certainly, if
correctly reported, anything but friendly to Great Britain. My
friend Ferdinando Martini was unfortunately for himself inveigled
into seeing Caillaux, and he never heard the end of it. I was
later invited to make a statement as to what I knew regarding
the visit, but my information was all at second-hand, and I could
not have furnished any evidence which British judicial practice
would have admitted.

On Christmas Eve, which fell on a Sunday, our children had
just arrived for the holidays when I received a telegram instructing
me to return home at once for consultation on various matters.
I started a few hours later, and reached Paris early on the morning
of the 26th. There I learned that Boulogne harbour was blocked
by a grain ship which had grounded at right angles to the entrance
and had broken its back. Bertie had provided a French military
motor-car to take me to Calais, whence the last boat was due to
start at 2 p.m. It would, however, if necessary be detained till
three. So I started immediately without waiting even for a cup
of coffee. The motor was unfortunately very infirm and refused
the hills. More than once we lost much time in stopping to tinker
up the machine. The weather was grim and the road bad. Two o'clock
passed, and then three, and we were still a long way from Calais.
Finally, after a collision with a Belgian ambulance, I reached
the base-commandant's office at 4.30. The boat had of course left,
and he could only refer me to the naval officer in charge who
communicated with Dover. At last at the buffet I obtained a cup
of tea, the first refreshment for nearly twenty-four hours. All
the movement had been transferred from Boulogne to Calais, and
people were camping in the hall and on the staircase of the station
hotel. After much insistence I learned that a patrol boat would
call for me at 11 p.m. I dined at the station with some genial
young officers, and prolonged the meal as late as possible. But
the restaurant closed at ten, and I had to sit on my luggage in
the waiting-room till midnight, when the very junior lieutenant
in charge of the patrol boat appeared. There was a fog in the
Channel, and he had had to go cautiously. I remember suggesting
that he no doubt knew the way blindfold. Not at all, he replied,
he had only just arrived from Plymouth, when he was dispatched
to fetch me. However, he and his sub-lieutenant, both looking
like schoolboys, appeared to regard this extra journey as all
in the day's work. They made me very comfortable in their tiny
wardroom, where there was a good fire, and we started at once.
Dover was reached about 2 a.m., and I had four hours in bed before
catching the seven o'clock train. The fog was very heavy as we
approached London, which I did not reach till near midday on the
27th. At the Foreign Office I learned that I was expected to lunch
with the Prime Minister at 1.30. Our own house was let, so I raced
to Claridge's and had just time to make a rapid change and return
to Downing Street. And that was how I spent my Christmas in 1916.

At luncheon I found Ribot, whom I had not seen since I was
at the Embassy at Paris twenty years before, and Albert Thomas,
with Balfour, Derby, Curzon, Milner, and Bonar Law. After lunch
there was a meeting of the war Cabinet at which I was invited
to be present. The French Ministers, who had left after lunch,
came back in the course of the afternoon, and discussions with
them continued till after seven. They were resumed the following
morning, after which I lunched with Balfour, who was now my chief.
Circumstances pointed to a Conference in Italy, and this involved
the dispatch of a number of telegrams to Rome. After a busy afternoon
at the Foreign Office I went to dine with the Malcolms. On the
29th I was again summoned to the war Cabinet. But on the 30th
I had a fairly free day, and saw a good many friends and relations.
The next day, Sunday, I went down to the Prime Minister's house
at Walton Heath to dine and sleep, and in the evening he discussed
with me certain ideas which he had formed regarding the general
military situation which very much commended themselves to me.

It had been decided, after examining various proposals as to
where a meeting with the Allied commanding officers at Salonika
could best take place, to hold the conference in Rome. But the
agreement of the French Government was not obtained in time to
enable a start to be made on the first day of the New Year. On
the morning of the 2nd I went to the Foreign Office and learned
rather late that we were to leave Charing Cross at 2.15. There
was just time to pack and lunch. We crossed in the regular boat
to Calais, with an ample escort of destroyers watching over our
safety, and reached Paris at 11 p.m. With the Prime Minister and
Milner were Sir William Robertson and Sir Henry Wilson, George
Clerk on behalf of the Foreign Office, Layton and Royden as munitions
and shipping authorities, Davies, the Prime Minister's secretary,
and Lord Duncannon. A day had to be spent in Paris, and there
we lunched with M. Briand. He, with Albert Thomas and General
Lyautey, then Minister for War, were the French delegates. They
were accompanied by M. Berthelot and a number of military experts,
and of course M. Mantoux, the prince of interpreters. The Granvilles
travelled in the same train. He had just been appointed Agent
at Salonika. The long railway journey offered an excellent opportunity
for preliminary discussion of the problems which had to be solved
at the conference. We reached Rome early on the morning of the
7th, and the Prime Minister with his private secretary came to
stay at the Embassy. The army had absorbed most of my male household,
leaving me only with a butler, a chauffeur, an African footman,
a cook too diminutive and delicate for military service, and an
odd man of uncertain years. It was therefore not possible to accommodate
any other guests, especially as all my family were at home, including
even my eldest son, who had not been well and had come down from
Udine for a week or two before accompanying Colonel Talbot on
a very interesting mission to Cyrenaica.

We met in Rome General Sarrail and General Milne from Salonika,
Sir Francis Elliot and General Fairholme from Athens. No special
plenipotentiary could come from Russia, which was represented
by the Ambassador, M. de Giers. General Cadorna arrived from the
Front to advise the Italian Delegates Sonnino and Scialoia, the
international jurist, whose presence is indispensable at all conferences.
Scialoia, who always speaks to the point, is not as a rule a man
of many words. Once however at Geneva he told me a curious experience
of his early life.

Few of my countrymen have probably ever been to Camerino, which
lies remote in the mountains between Umbria and the Adriatic.
I once made my way there, hoping to find pictures by its delightful
painter Boccati. In that respect there was little to justify the
pilgrimage, but the magnificent position of the town makes it
well worth a visit. It has a small university, a survival from
the Middle Ages when Camerino was an independent principality
alternately in feud or friendship with Rimini. Scialoia told me
that he began his career as a professor, or rather the professor,
at that university, where he represented all the faculties and
had charge of about a dozen students. In those happy days he felt
"passing rich on £60 a year." The little university
has, however, in recent years experienced a considerable revival,
and flourishes once more.

The matter with which the Conference had been assembled to
deal was the position at Salonika and the situation in Greece.
But the Prime Minister had in his mind another very important
proposal which he had discussed with me in England, and which
he took this opportunity of submitting to the Allied representatives
and their military advisers. While experts were considering lines
of communication with Salonika he placed his views before the
smaller meeting of Ministers, Ambassadors and Chiefs of Staff.
He pointed out that there appeared to be a deadlock on the fighting
fronts both in the west and the east which there was little immediate
prospect of breaking. The line of least resistance on which to
push home a vigorous offensive appeared at that moment to be on
the Italian front. A shortage of artillery had always handicapped
Cadorna. If the Allies could make that shortage good, and also
furnish a limited number of efficient divisions to support the
spring offensive, there seemed to be a fair prospect of breaking
through in the direction of Laybach, and so of cutting the road
to the Balkans and of driving a wedge into the flank of the dual
monarchy. Indirectly this would also react on the problem at Salonika.

The French, who were naturally reluctant to contemplate any
transfer of men or material from their own front, where a renewal
of offensive activity might be anticipated in the spring or early
summer, did not meet this proposal with a refusal to co-operate.
But they attached to their consent a condition that any loan of
artillery should be limited to a specific period, and stipulated
that the guns must be returned to France by April.

Cadorna expressed the opinion that the plan was not only feasible
but that it could be undertaken with good prospect of success.
His estimate of the Allied assistance required was eight divisions
and 300 guns. But he insisted that it would be quite impossible,
once such an advance had been successfully initiated, to give
any definite guarantee that the artillery could be returned at
a fixed date. When that date arrived operations might still be
incomplete, and he could not accept the condition of a time limit
which might involve hurried movements and compromise success.
The impression which he conveyed in addressing the meeting was
certainly one of coldness which, as I suspected and afterwards
learned, did not at all represent his real feelings. Sonnino,
also, after his manner, instead of dwelling on the positive advantages
of the proposal, rather emphasized the difficulties which Cadorna
had indicated. The Prime Minister, disappointed to find that neither
evinced, as he thought, great enthusiasm for his plan and understanding
that the French adhered to their condition that the loan of artillery
could only be temporary, decided not to press the matter further.

Having always been anxious to see some British co-operation
on the Italian front, and believing, as in fact the coming summer
proved, that the Austrian defence was weakening, I had been a
warm supporter of the Prime Minister's ideas, and I greatly regretted
that he should have closed the door to a resumption of the discussion.
Had he known the men with whom he was dealing as well as I did,
he would perhaps not have been disturbed by their apparent want
of enthusiasm. It was never a characteristic of Sonnino, whose
habit of mind led him to examine minutely all the weak points
in a proposition which, after having balanced all the pros and
cons, he might finally accept and then tenaciously defend. Cadorna
explained to me later that the proposal was of course most welcome
to him, but that, as it implied giving special prominence to the
sphere of action in which he was commanding, a feeling which I
should readily understand restrained him in the presence of other
distinguished soldiers from directly urging them to place him
in a position which would redound to his personal prestige. At
the same time he obviously could not give an undertaking to return
artillery at a definite date without regard to the conditions
prevailing when the moment arrived. He added that he thought Sir
William Robertson's views coincided with his own up to a certain
point. I must confess I had not divined what was behind the somewhat
sphinx-like expression which the latter assumed during the discussion.
In so far as a layman was entitled to have an opinion I felt that
Cadorna need not have considered the obligation to return the
guns as an insuperable obstacle, inasmuch as, if the Austrian
defences had been successfully broken, the operations would obviously
not have been arrested and the enemy man-power on the Western
front would probably have been proportionately diminished. The
moment was auspicious for preparing such an offensive with all
the elements of a surprise, as movements of men and material through
Italy to Salonika were already in process and trains, whose destination
the enemy would have assumed to be Taranto, could have been diverted
in Piedmont or Liguria and dispatched to the Alpine frontier.
The King of Italy, who was enthusiastic in favour of the project,
and thought that penetration into Austria might well result in
undermining the whole edifice, confirmed what Cadorna had said
regarding the delicacy of his position and his natural reluctance
to appear too urgent. Indeed, such an attitude was in conformity
with his character. It is often interesting in looking back to
reflect what part the personal and human element may have played
in the shaping of issues. But it is unprofitable to speculate
how far events might have been modified by action which never
took place. I shall however always believe that the Prime Minister's
conception was strategically sound.

At the plenary meeting General Sarrail displayed dialectical
ability in submitting his case for the coercion of Greece and
the occupation of Thessaly, without which he intimated that his
position at Salonika might become precarious. If his premises
were correct his conclusions followed logically enough. But the
delegates generally remained unconvinced. General Milne could
of course not oppose his Commander-in-Chief at the assembly. We
had, however, other experts who contested the premises which the
Italians were also indisposed to accept. The evidence which we
heard pointed to our having in some measure ourselves created
the position which was said to be menacing. It was improbable
that there would have been a single Greek soldier to oppose an
occupation of Thessaly. But irregulars in the mountains might
have given a great deal of trouble. The decision taken was really
a defeat for Sarrail , and the ultimatum which it was resolved
to dispatch to Athens was very much what Sonnino had proposed
to send two or three weeks earlier when he had no doubt it would
have been accepted without hesitation. Meanwhile, Sarrail's hands
were tied, and a definite rupture was avoided. Besides these questions
of policy a number of practical matters were disposed of in Rome.
Lines of communication were systematized. The British were to
use the Adriatic railway with a rest camp at Faenza, and the French
the Mediterranean line with a halting station at Leghorn.

Conversations with those who had been at Salonika threw much
new light on the position, and illustrated the difficulties of
maintaining a force composed of five different nationalities on
active service. To myself the conference was particularly interesting
from the individualities with whom it brought me into contact.
Sarrail, a tall, fair, handsome soldier, had an imperturbable
manner when speaking which was rather in contrast with the expression
behind the eyes. It was interesting to be confronted with the
subject of so much discussion, but we only met officially during
the two days he remained in Rome. I have therefore confined my
comments to his policy, to which I was strongly opposed. General
Lyautey, whose admirable combination of firmness and tact had
enabled him to achieve such great results in Morocco, proved on
acquaintance to have yet another virtue, the rare quality of charm.
Though we had never met before we had been twenty years earlier
unconsciously almost in contact in the character of antagonists,
for Lyautey was one of the gallant officers of the army of Africa
who accompanied Marchand on the adventurous expedition to Fashoda.
I did not of course refer to that occasion. Both Briand and Albert
Thomas delighted me with that spontaneous eloquence of the Latin
which is rarely found in our countrymen. Briand's lucidity and
logical sequence of exposition in speeches, which under the circumstances
could not but be improvised, carried the hearer on to his conclusion
without a break or flaw in the grammatical construction. Albert
Thomas's vehement gift of expression assumes at times an emotional
quality which can be almost irresistible until you learn to discount
it, as I know well from listening to his appeals at the Fourth
Commission of the League of Nations against reductions in the
budget of the Labour Bureau.

Lord Milner was an old friend of many years' standing. But
I had never met Mr. Lloyd George until he summoned me home, when
I immediately fell under his charm, which is enhanced by the magic
of a perfectly modulated voice. It is not necessary to enlarge
upon the quickness of apprehension, the dexterity in exposition,
or the courtesy as a listener which are well known to all who
have been in personal contact with him. But these days of intimacy
gave me the opportunity of seeing another side of his nature,
and of realizing how readily he would divest himself of the official
and discuss the humanities not as a scholar but with a spirit
revealing great sensibility. I had often heard that he had no
great opinion of diplomatists, but can only say that he put me
at my ease at once, and encouraged me to talk without reserve.
It has always interested me to observe the impression which the
first glimpse of the Imperial monuments produces on those who
have never seen them before, and such an opportunity occurred
after a morning sitting when there was still a brief interval
before lunch, and I took him and Albert Thomas for a drive past
the Forum and the Colosseum. As we settled down in the motor I
remember how the Prime Minister remarked as a commentary on the
morning's proceedings, "It is extraordinary how the soldiers
hate the politicians and how the politicians hate the soldiers,"
and then turning to me with his genial smile he added, "and
how the diplomatists hate them both !" "Not at all,"
I replied; "there are a great many soldiers I admire very
much." "I deserved it," said the Prime Minister.

The conference broke up on the 7th of January. Milner joined
us at the Embassy, and remained a day or two longer in Rome. He
was shortly to start for Russia on a mission which I did not envy
him.

I used to receive about this time, from a source of which I
can only say that it was not British nor American, a good deal
of interesting information regarding the views and action of the
Vatican. After leaving Rome the Prussian Minister to the Holy
See had established himself at Lugano close to the frontier. His
office no doubt became a useful clearing house for communications,
and a Bavarian Monsignor who had to leave Italy in a great hurry
was apparently one of the transmitting agents. In January the
Minister informed the Holy See that Germany was quite ready to
restore Belgian independence "mit militärischen Sicherheiten,"the exact connotation of which did not seem very clear. After
the rupture of diplomatic relations with Germany by the United
States at the beginning of February 1917, two at least of the
foreign representatives accredited to the Holy See were assured
by the Vatican chancery that the President's action had been taken
in understanding with Germany. It was explained to them that the
President had not seen his way to cutting off supplies of metal
and ammunition to the Allies without raising grave opposition
in America. Breaking off relations would justify the presumption
of the imminence of war so that he could thereafter insist on
the detention in the country of all warlike material.

The President's action had no doubt been an unwelcome surprise
to the ecclesiastical authorities for, as I learned later on,
an emissary or emissaries, as to the source of whose inspiration
Page entertained no doubt, had several times visited the American
Ambassador and explained to him the interpretation of the obligations
of neutrality which the Vatican hoped the President would adopt.
They insisted that as Germany and Austria could receive no supplies
from the United States these should also be cut off from the Allies.
On one occasion it was even suggested that if the President were
reluctant to take a step which would appear to be directed against
the Entente a supposed menace from Japan might be adduced
as a pretext for refusing supplies. Otherwise there was a curious
uniformity in these communications. The Holy See, it was explained,
had no means of approaching the President except through the Ambassador;
Germany's peace conditions were remarkable for their moderation;
Great Britain was the real obstacle to peace. A final message
sent just before America entered the war was almost in the nature
of an indictment of the President for having missed a great opportunity
of stopping the war by the refusal of supplies. Page found it
impossible to reject the evidence available that these communications
were inspired by the office of the Cardinal Secretary of State.
The first interest of the Holy See was no doubt peace. But these
and other indications which reached me from sources whose good
faith I could not doubt, and which would of course have been studiously
concealed from my colleague at the Vatican, led me to conclude
that the feeling prevailing there was at the moment not favourably
disposed towards us. It was, however, liable to fluctuate with
circumstances, and a month or so later there was evidence of much
more friendly sentiments.

Early in March a letter reached me announcing the death of
my lifelong friend, Harry Cust. It would not be easy to convey
to another generation any just impression of what he was to his
contemporaries. He sat for a few years in Parliament. He vigorously
edited the PallMall Gazette for a limited period.
He was the author of a very slim little volume of verse which
is hardly known outside his own immediate circle. Judged by results,
a nature so gifted might hardly be accounted to have fulfilled
its early promise. And yet he left a greater blank in the hearts
of his associates than any other man that I have known. It is
curious that so little remains in the memory of all that fell
from the lips of one so brilliant. But his brilliancy was inspired
by the atmosphere of the moment, and the merely apposite is inevitably
ephemeral. Impulsive, disinterested, and affectionate, he could
always claim indulgence and find forgiveness. To be with him was
a privilege, and his gift to life was the constant pleasure which
radiated from his presence.

In March also we had a visit from the Maharajah of Bikanir,
and so made the acquaintance of an Indian prince who in quite
a different way had for me the same quality of giving pleasure
by his society. A beneficent ruler who is developing his state
with modern resources for the benefit of his people, a perfectly
natural and very virile man, he would have been the ideal host
with whom to go tiger-shooting, which he was good enough to offer
me the opportunity of doing.

Towards the end of the month the King of Italy, who had been
to Taranto to inspect the fleet, remained in Rome for the close
of the Parliamentary session. Reports received that the enemy
was accumulating large quantities of warlike material in the Trentino
and behind the Isonzo indicated the probability of an attack on
both fronts, and Ministers appeared to be preoccupied. But I could
not detect any trace of nervousness in the King, though he admitted
the possibility of numbers and material drawn from other areas
proving overwhelming. He rapidly went over the forces of which
Italy could dispose to repel such an attack, adding that I should
of course have all those details from our military representative.
I could not tell His Majesty that that was the last source from
which I ever received any information. Reverting to the Prime
Minister's plan the King expressed the opinion that it was the
right strategic policy to have adopted, and said that any help
we could offer would be welcome. It was much to be regretted that
Sir William Robertson's visit to the Italian head-quarters took
place during the King's stay in Rome. Fortunately he and General
Cadorna seem to have understood one another, and though the larger
scheme was never resumed some British and French batteries, nearly
100 guns in all, were sent to Italy. The British gunners made
themselves very popular, and the King spoke to me more than once
in high praise of their conduct and smartness.

I had the best of reasons at this time for suspecting a new
intrigue to supplant Sonnino, and it was really I believe the
existence of some friction in the Cabinet which detained the sovereign
in Rome. In any case his presence there was successful in clearing
the air. No one knew better than myself how difficult Sonnino
could be to deal with, and his temperament may well at times have
led to irritation among his colleagues. Difficulties were almost
sure to arise when the biggest man in the Government only occupied
the second place. But he had been throughout the rock on which
to lean in the conduct of the war, able to some extent to suppress
his own strong convictions in the interest of unity. It was depressing
to feel that lesser men should be intriguing to undermine his
influence.

Robertson came on to Rome and paid us a brief visit. It was
interesting to find that the conclusions he had formed during
his visit to Udine were very similar to those expressed to me
by the Russian officers on the spot, from whom, as also occasionally
from the French military representative, all my first-hand knowledge
of the military situation was derived.

Meanwhile, the myth of Tsardom, of which grave and enlightened
Russians used to speak with an apparent sense of solemn reverence,
had passed away almost without a struggle, and there was nothing
to take the place of the fetish which had ceased to impose. The
pricking of the bubble was largely the unconscious work of a priapic
monk. The loyal, well-meaning but weak and fatalistic Emperor
and a good but narrow and irredeemably superstitious Empress with
their innocent family, touchingly united in domestic devotion,
disappeared from the scene, to end at last as the most tragic
victims in history of a vast system of unreality. The political
landslide and the importation through Germany of all the elements
of disruption into a social order already undermined by revolution
rendered hopeless any renewal of a Russian offensive, and enabled
enemy divisions to be transferred from the east to the west. It
entailed the prolongation of the war for at least another year.

Nevertheless, after a long winter of disillusion, with April
and the spring the horizon began to clear. A succession of happy
events put heart into us all. First and foremost, on the 6th we
learned that Congress had assented to the President's message,
and that the United States were at war with Germany. In the first
moment of relief and exultation no doubt imagination carried us
away, and new horizons of infinite promise seemed to open with
the union in a great cause of the two peoples speaking a common
language and moved by the same instincts and sentiments. It was
a day which one felt glad to have lived to see. I rushed off to
find Page, and almost fell into his arms. I had always known where
his heart lay. But it was good to feel that the last barrier of
reserve was gone, and that thenceforth we should be working together
with unrestricted confidence in the common cause. Then Cuba declared
a state of war, and Brazil broke off diplomatic relations with
Germany.

On the Western front the British and the French forward movements
were crowned with success, while the Italian offensive made steady
progress in spite of the transfer of a number of divisions from
Galicia to reinforce the Austrian line. In the middle of the month
a telegram from Colonel Talbot announced that an agreement had
been signed with Sayed Idris in Cyrenaica.

The object of his mission had been to co-operate with our Italian
allies in establishing a modus vivendi with the grandson
of the founder of the Senoussi movement. During the minority of
the latter a cousin, Sayed Ahmed, had directed the brotherhood,
and sought to make its influence temporal as well as spiritual.
When war broke out Turkish and German emissaries had persuaded
him to make a hostile diversion on the western frontier of Egypt,
which ended disastrously for him. He escaped in a German submarine
to Constantinople, and then Sayed Idris, the eldest son of Sayed
el Mahdi, being of full age, became the natural ruler of the Senoussi.
The defeat of Sayed Ahmed had enhanced British prestige, and we
were better able to be of assistance to Italy in negotiating an
arrangement with the chief of the fraternity whose followers are
scattered from Tripoli to the Red Sea.

The conclusion of a provisional agreement with Idris was not
the less satisfactory to me because my son, together with his
friend Ahmed Hassanein Bey, now known to fame as the discoverer
of the Lost Oases, were with Talbot, and only a few days earlier
the reports from Cyrenaica had almost made us despair of reaching
any conclusion. But Agnesa, the permanent Under Secretary for
the Colonies, and I had put our heads together, and had suggested
a new formula which seems to have facilitated an understanding.
Sir Mark Sykes happened to be in Rome on his way to Egypt and,
knowing that a liaison officer was required for the Italian contingent
which was to take part in the Palestine expedition, suggested
my son for a post for which his command of the language indicated
him as the right man. He was thus to see fighting on three different
fronts. Mark Sykes, whose premature death deprived his friends
of a very original and interesting personality, was attached to
the Secretariat of the Defence Committee, and had been entrusted
with the task of preparing agreements for a post-war settlement
of the Near East in conjunction with M. Picot on behalf of France,
who, I cannot but think, made the best of his opportunities. Sykes
had studied the Zionist movement, and had, I believe, been instrumental
in convincing the Jewish idealists that their aims would best
be served by associating themselves with the Allies in opposition
to the international financiers whose interests were for the most
part pro-German, and in this he rendered good service. During
his stay in Rome he was received by the Pope, which, as he was
a devout Catholic, was perfectly regular, but I always felt rather
apprehensive of the interviews of amateur diplomatists, and Mark
Sykes was something of a freelance. In his case, as in that of
other Members of Parliament who visited Rome disguised as Staff
officers, it was always rather difficult to grasp what they were
doing or rather what they were authorized to do and say.

With the Conference at St. Jean de Maurienne, which took place
at the end of April, I had nothing to do. My French colleague
went there. But the conversations were confined to the three plenipotentiaries---Lloyd
George, Ribot, and Sonnino. The latter returned very satisfied
with the result, as well he might be. It did not occur to him
that the absence of the consent of Russia would invalidate the
settlement so far as the other Powers were concerned, especially
after Russia had ceased to have a Government which any of the
three recognized, a condition which was shortly to ensue. I imagine,
however, that it was present to the minds of many, who conducted
these and other similar negotiations, that the extreme claims
advanced would never be realized. It was of great importance for
Sonnino to be able to assert that he had the assurance that claims
commensurate with those advanced by the other Allies would be
recognized. In the end all these arrangements which aroused so
much misgiving at the time were destined to be in many respects
overridden by circumstance and the introduction of new factors
unanticipated when they were being discussed.

Preparations for the campaign in Palestine made us anxious
to withdraw some of our troops from Salonika, where Sarrail now
once more raised the question of the Greek menace to his position
and the necessity of occupying Thessaly. Danger from Greece under
actual conditions could not seriously be advanced, and the use
of the Allied forces for such a purpose would only have meant
giving the Bulgarians a favourable chance, and extinguishing all
the hopes of the Serbians for a victorious re-entry into their
own country. Already enemy agents were making Serbia tempting
offers of autonomy in a large Jugo-Slav state. There was no inter-Allied
general staff at Salonika, but if there had been, from all the
accounts received, the policy of the Commander-in-Chief, which
seemed to be dictated by political rather than by military considerations,
would not have received any support.

Just when a reduction of our forces at Salonika was under consideration
reports reached me from two different sources of a project for
a big military hospital at Taranto. Having in mind our experience
in Sicily just before the evacuation of Gallipoli, I felt bound
to point out that it would be inadvisable to commit ourselves
to costly schemes for which, after all, there might be little
necessity. Taranto, which is hot and slightly malarial, was not
in any case an ideal site for a hospital, and Arthur Stanley,
who at this time paid a visit to Italy, had told me that the Red
Cross would be prepared to provide small hospital stations on
the line of communications at Faenza and Alessandria.

A hastily summoned Conference at Paris once more deliberated
on the Greek situation. The telegram inviting Sonnino to attend
only reached him on the day on which he must have started in order
to arrive in time. His engagements made it impossible for him
to leave at a few hours' notice. There was only one train a day,
and the journey took thirty-six hours. This was certainly unfortunate
since, though Italy was not one of the guaranteeing Powers, no
step in regard to Greece had been taken without consulting her,
and as the Ambassadors in Paris were not present at the meeting
her voice was not heard at all. When in June the coup d'état
took place which brought about the withdrawal of King Constantine
and the substitution of his second son as King, it passed without
much comment in Italy as a step which the guaranteeing Powers
were justified in taking in view of their special position. But
a proclamation of Albanian independence, announced almost simultaneously,
which could not have been promulgated without the encouragement
of an Italy in partial occupation of that country, seemed to have
been intentionally made to synchronize with developments in Greece.
The situation had to be handled discreetly in order to give no
opening to those whose interest it was to spread reports of a
lack of mutual confidence among the Allies.

While the general spirit in Italy was satisfactory in spite
of the many sacrifices entailed on the people there were some
very regrettable incidents in manufacturing areas in the north,
where the extreme Socialists were encouraged by the shortage of
grain and other supplies to press their anti-war campaign more
ruthlessly. Violent riots at Turin had to be put down with a strong
hand. A number of the demonstrators who had till then been exempted
from active service in the interests of mechanical industries
were at once dispatched to the Front. The infiltration into the
fighting ranks of a number of agitators had obvious disadvantages.
During the summer, in spite of a series of successes which carried
the Italian line continually forward, the enemy claimed to have
made a considerable number of prisoners. This might of course
well be the result of counter-attacks. But there seem also to
have been, on one occasion at least, instances of collective desertion
by men who had been tampered with by an insidious propaganda,
and who laid down their arms, acclaiming the Russian revolution.
Information to that effect reached me from a source on which I
had always been able to depend. I also received a number of anonymous
letters drawing attention to the dissemination of subversionary
pamphlets among the soldiers. As I remained without any information
from our Military Mission I suggested to the military attaché
when he paid a visit to the Front that he should make some discreet
enquiries, and his investigations confirmed the existence of this
dangerous activity and of its effects, which I had already reported
home, privately, as it was outside my province to deal officially
with military matters. The correctness of the information which
I had received has been fully confirmed by the publication, some
seven years later, of a series of letters addressed in June and
August 1917 by Marshal Cadorna to the Italian Prime Minister,
in which he drew attention to the progressive aggravation of the
evil in spite of the very severe measures taken to prevent desertion.
He prophesied sinister consequences if the cause of the evil were
not removed and, while complaining that his earlier communications
had remained without reply, he protested energetically against
the toleration in the country of a subversive propaganda which
was ruinous to the discipline and moraleof the army. I
had, moreover, in conversations with Sonnino detected the anxiety
which he felt himself regarding the increase of revolutionary
agitation.

The persistence of reports of this anti-military propaganda
seemed to me to be so disquieting that just before the big Italian
thrust in the later summer I asked the military attaché
to pay another visit to head-quarters. That he should do so was
entirely in conformity with the only instructions which I had
received regarding his proper function in war-time. On his arrival
at Udine, however, a message was conveyed to him, ostensibly from
the assistant Chief of the Staff, but through a junior member
of our Military Mission, that it would not be possible at that
moment to provide him with any accommodation. Under the circumstances
he could only return to Rome. As Colonel Lamb was extremely popular
with Italian officers and had been treated with exceptional cordiality
on his former very occasional visits, I could only form my own
conclusions as to the real source of this message. It was an incident
which should never have occurred, and I had now to insist strongly
on a new and clear definition of functions and powers. My anxiety
as to these undermining influences, which the Russian débâcle
stimulated, were not diminished when Benedict XV published
in August his pronouncement regarding the obligation to make peace.
It was an accidental but most unfortunate coincidence that the
only two agencies which really exercised influence on the masses
should thus be working on parallel lines.

On the other hand, military operations on the Italian front
during the spring and summer of 1917 had been consistently fortunate.
The crossing of the Isonzo and the penetration on to the Bainsizza
plateau was a remarkable military feat. It brought Italian troops
to within forty miles of Laybach, and revealed what might have
been accomplished had it been possible to give Cadorna the support
which the Prime Minister had urged at the beginning of the year.
A war of manoeuvres would have recommenced in that area, and the
Allies might have pushed far into the heart of Austria. It seemed
worthy of consideration whether with the advent of autumn in the
north the plan might not be resumed. But careful calculations
of time and means of transport made it evident that for the current
year the occasion had gone by, and that no more could be attempted
till the following spring. The fates do not often concede a second
opportunity when the first has been rejected, and now a disastrous
autumn was to undo all that the summer had achieved.

Cadorna's decision, for reasons which were strategically sound,
to suspend in September the offensive which had cost Italy upwards
of 160,000 men out of action, was reported to the respective Allied
chiefs of staff. But his letter explaining those reasons did not
reach our military authorities. The return of the guns, which
had only been sent for offensive purposes, was accordingly requested
with a view to the transmission of a certain number to Egypt.
Cadorna felt that he could only acquiesce. But fortunately the
misunderstanding was cleared up, and it was decided to leave some
of the British batteries. The thirty-five French guns were, however,
withdrawn.

In the course of a life not without adventures, I have had
several narrow escapes which were generally only of interest to
myself. But one which occurred during the war at the Embassy seems
worthy of mention on account of its exceptional nature. Owing
to the summons to the flag of most of our men-servants we had
welcomed the opportunity of engaging as a footman a tall and good-looking
negro with experience of house service and excellent testimonials.
He had been baptized under the name of Vittorio, and brought up
as a Christian. After he had been with us for some time another
negro equally tall, called Ali, presented himself and was engaged
provisionally on trial. This man had not been very long m the
house before a sum of money disappeared from my study which it
was his duty to clean. There was no evidence against him, and
he was not charged with the theft. But it seemed more prudent
not to retain him. Shortly after his discharge, my wife having
left with the children, I was alone at the Embassy and went every
evening to dine at the Club, returning immediately afterwards.
Having one night a great deal of work on hand, I went straight
to my table and sat down to write without looking round. I only
moved once from the writing-table to find something to drink and
went to bed at a very late hour. The butler, when he called me
the following morning, informed me that a number of small articles,
such as cigarette cases, had disappeared from my table, and that
a cabinet in which I used to keep a little ready money had been
prized open. On going down I also found that some 500 cigarettes
had disappeared from one of the drawers of the writing-table,
and that a metal dispatch box which stood in my room had been
found in the hall near the front door. Now my cigarettes were
supplied by a maker in Alexandria with whom no one else in Rome
was likely to deal. Suspicion fell upon Ali, who was an inveterate
smoker. But no one could suggest how he could have obtained access
to the Embassy, which was watched on both sides. There was no
evidence of a forced entry.

I informed the police that if a negro were found with cigarettes
on him bearing the name of the Alexandrian tobacconist the case
against him could be established. Ali was duly arrested a day
or two later, dressed in my clothes, and most of the stolen articles
were also found. He confessed to the robbery as an act of vengeance
for his dismissal. While serving as a footman he had discovered
how to open a grating in the garden through which access could
be obtained to a cellar where firewood was stored. The cellar
opened into a corridor under the house, and the door had either
been left open or he had found means of opening it. He had climbed
over the garden wall by night and, eluding the night watchman,
had made his way into the wood-cellar. Removing his clothes he
was able to move freely about the house at night, being invisible
owing to his black skin.

On the night of the robbery he had deposited some of my clothes
in the cellar, and was in my study engaged on the cabinet and
the drawers when he heard my footsteps coming down the long passage
from the chancery entrance by which I let myself in. He turned
off the light and got behind the curtains in the window recess,
where he must have remained motionless many hours. When I went
to the table with the tray and glasses I must have passed within
a few feet of this powerful negro standing stark naked behind
the curtain holding his knife in his teeth ready for use if he
was detected. Fortunately, I was unaware of his presence. After
I had gone to bed he collected all the portable loot, returned
to the cellar to dress himself in my clothes, and left the house
by the front door very early in the morning. He had the dispatch
box, which contained many valuables, under his arm, but seeing
the detective on duty on the pavement opposite, he thought it
more prudent not to be seen issuing at such an hour with a heavy
case and so he left it in the hall.

The story does not end with the arrest of Ali. A week or two
later Vittorio told me he wished to leave. The robbery had become
known to the public, and as he was also black the boys in the
street took him for the thief, and made his life impossible. So
far as we were aware there was nothing against him, and he had
been an excellent servant. He found a place eventually with the
Marchesa Casati, and succeeded in gaining her confidence. But
some months afterwards he robbed her in a very serious manner,
and so came to a bad end. It was probably he and not Ali who had
committed the original theft at the Embassy ; and it was the devout
product of missionary enterprise who was really the bigger villain.
But I have always been thankful that I did not go to the window
that night to see what the weather was doing.

The Duke of Sermoneta, an old friend of many years, who had
been for some time in failing health, died at the beginning of
September. The loss at the Front of his second son, Don Livio
Caetani, an able and singularly modest diplomatist who had already
proved his mettle during the siege of the Peking Legations, had
affected him not a little, and there were constant preoccupations
for other stalwart sons who as Caetani were foremost in doing
their duty. He had lived the allotted term of years, but had retained
so much of youth and such freshness of interest in life that one
never thought of his age. Handsome, cultured, witty, with a commanding
figure and an unfailing charm of gracious manner, he had been
pleasantly familiar almost ever since I had known the world of
Rome, of which he was one of the last representative patrician
types. It is true he left many charming and capable sons to carry
on the name. But the old life of the city, in which he was identified
with all that was best and worthiest, has passed away, and following
in the procession which left the Villa Torlonia where he died
I seemed to be attending the funeral of the ancient order.

At the end of August Sonnino paid a visit to London, where
he was very cordially received. I was gratified at his making
what I know was an effort to him, because direct contact among
statesmen of different countries serves to clear away many misconceptions,
and personality cannot be gauged vicariously from official communications.
When he came back I felt it possible for the first time after
four years to take a brief holiday in England where we arrived
in the second half of September, just before London and the suburbs
were subjected during a whole week to a daily bombardment from
the air. It was an unpleasant experience from which we had hitherto
been immune in a city enjoying apostolic protection. We were dining
with the Scarbroughs on the first evening, and hearing explosions
went out into Park Lane, whence one could see the flashes of the
bombs falling in the direction of Paddington. A few weeks of relative
liberty at home soon passed. Our return journey was the longest
in my experience. Mines were reported to have been loosened by
a gale, and we were first detained at Southampton. There were
further delays at Havre and at Paris. It took us six days to reach
Rome. Meanwhile the disaster of Caporetto had taken place.